<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The Engraving by kathkin</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24131869">The Engraving</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathkin/pseuds/kathkin'>kathkin</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Merlin (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Anal Sex, Bottom Merlin (Merlin), Gangbang, Group Sex, M/M, this is a very fluffy fic about gangbanging.</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:55:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,609</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24131869</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathkin/pseuds/kathkin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Arthur had somehow got into a situation wherein he had to bugger the man who was – let’s face it – the closest thing he had to a best friend, and unless luck was very much on his side things were going to be awkward forever.</i> Camelot has been stricken by a terrible drought! Fortunately, Merlin has found a magical ritual that can bring back the rain. Unfortunately, it requires group sex - and Merlin is a virgin.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gwaine/Merlin (Merlin), Knights of the Round Table/Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>598</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Engraving</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally written &amp; posted for <a href="https://kinkme-merlin.livejournal.com/22767.html?thread=40586735">this prompt</a> on Kink Me Merlin back in 2014. I present it to you unedited.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The drought had lasted what felt like an age. The kingdom was dry as a cast-off husk, everything that had once been green now yellow and brown for want of rain. But it could be worse; hell, it wasn’t even the worst Arthur had ever seen. It wasn’t as if it was a fairy curse – they’d checked quite carefully. It was a natural drought. They had their stores, they had livestock, they had water, even if they had to have it carted into the city from the north of the kingdom where it wasn’t so dry.</p><p>But really, ‘not as bad as the fairy curse that blighted the whole kingdom a few year ago’ wasn’t saying much. Merlin’s divinations predicted at least another two months before rain; two months of dwindling supplies, two months of the very young and old dying for want of water; no, they couldn’t have it. Merlin had been harder at work than Arthur had ever seen him, up in the north tower, which had been cleared specially for him to use as a study. </p><p>It had been almost a week and already he’d started snapping at anyone who asked him, “found anything yet?” or even just, “well?” Arthur had taken to avoiding him, thirsty irritable sorcerer that he was. He figured Merlin would come to him straight away if he found anything helpful.</p><p>And here he was, in Arthur’s bedchamber just after sunset, an open book clasped to his chest and an expression of utmost anxiety plastered across his face. “Hi,” he said.</p><p>“Merlin,” said Arthur, with a pointed look at the book. He didn’t dare ask. “Come to read me a bedtime story?”</p><p>“What? No!” said Merlin, quite excessively affronted. “No. I, um. I think I’ve found something that could end the drought.”</p><p>Arthur breathed out a sigh of relief. He was a scant year into his reign and already Camelot was drying up. People were starting to whisper that it was magic – not a curse, but somehow the dreadful consequence of the law Arthur had passed last autumn. They were saying he had personally blighted Camelot. Oh, but he had to fix this.</p><p>“What sort of something?” he said, not quite daring to celebrate till he knew the details.</p><p>“A ritual.” Merlin’s gaze turned to the book in his arms. He flicked through the pages. “It’s, um, actually quite simple. It doesn’t need anything special, and we could do it in the castle – we could do it tonight if we had to.” He bit his lip and fell silent. He had dark circles under his eyes.</p><p>“From your less than joyful tone I take it there’s a catch?” said Arthur, voice dry as the land.</p><p>“Not really a catch so much as,” Merlin leafed through the book again. “It’s just – the ritual, we’d have to, er –” He stared at Arthur, then at the book, then held the book out to Arthur. “I think maybe you should see for yourself.” Arthur gave Merlin a look – a look that said <i>really, Merlin, you want me to read one of your magic books, we’ve talked about this</i>. “It’s illustrated,” said Merlin. </p><p>Arthur sighed and took the book from Merlin’s outstretched hands. He looked at the engraving, then looked closer. “Good grief!” Merlin made a soft sound of agreement. Arthur cast his eye over the text, taking in the instructions with ever-building shock. Merlin was right. It was all quite simple, and quite clear. </p><p>“Good grief, Merlin – where do you <i>find</i> these things?” Merlin muttered something about the library. Arthur surveyed the illustration. “And you would be – well, this would be you?” He gestured at the figure in the centre of the engraving. Merlin nodded. “And these other men – well, I don’t suppose it’ll be difficult to find volunteers, at least.” He allowed himself a weak chuckle and dragged his gaze away from the illustration, only to find Merlin not amused in the slightest. In fact he looked quite mortified. “Are you alright? Are you – well, can you do this?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” said Merlin, voice quavering. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”</p><p>“I should hope not,” said Arthur, nodding at the illustration. “This is the filthiest thing I’ve ever seen.”</p><p>“No, I mean,” said Merlin, “I mean I’ve never done – <i>it</i>, not with –”</p><p>“With another man?” Arthur guessed.</p><p>Merlin shook his head, face flushing. “More like with anyone at all.”</p><p>It took Arthur a few moments to process that. “You’ve never – <i>how</i> –” He set the open book down on the table so as to properly deal with that little revelation. “Merlin, <i>how</i>?” Because it wasn’t as if Merlin was unattractive, and wasn’t that what they did all day, growing up in the country? It beggared belief.</p><p>“I don’t know!” said Merlin, voice almost a wail. “I was always waiting for the right time. Which is now, I guess.” He made a strangled sound that wasn’t quite a laugh.</p><p>“Merlin, you,” said Arthur, “you don’t have to do this, if you don’t think you can.”</p><p>“There isn’t anything else,” said Merlin thickly.</p><p>“I’m sure there’s something,” said Arthur in the most cheerful tone he could muster. “Why don’t you keep looking?”</p><p>“What do you think I’ve been doing?” snapped Merlin. “Arthur, I found this <i>five days</i> ago. I’ve been trying to find something else, and this is <i>it</i>. Or, well, there’s other rituals, but they’re <i>all</i> like this, or worse – they all need a virgin, or <i>seven</i> virgins, and if it’s not virgins it’s pregnant women – or a pregnant woman <i>and</i> a virgin – and she has to be <i>exactly</i> eighty-three days along, or else she has to be right on the brink of giving birth,” he took a deep breath, “and it all has to be done by the light of the full moon, or the light of a new moon, and you need about eight different magic plants – no, <i>this</i>,” he pointed at the table, “this is definitely the best one. I just,” he took a still deeper breath. “I don’t know if I can do it. I don’t even know <i>how</i> to do – that.” He broke off and stood chewing on the cuff of his jacket. It was a nervous habit he’d picked up lately, and one Arthur usually scolded him for.</p><p>“Merlin,” said Arthur. “<i>Mer</i>lin.” He set a hand on Merlin’s shoulder and gave him a gentle shake. “Nobody’s forcing you to do this.”</p><p>“I don’t think there’s any other way,” said Merlin. He took a deep breath and let it out in a shaky sigh. “It’s probably about time I got it over with, right?”</p><p>“Don’t think of this as <i>getting it over with</i>,” said Arthur. “Think of it as – I don’t know.” Losing your virginity in a weird sex ritual? What would you even <i>call</i> that? “Well, I’m sure it won’t be awful. We’ll – work it out.”</p><p>“We?” said Merlin, ears pricking up. “You mean you’re going to – together?”</p><p>Arthur realised that he had been assuming just that – that he would be the one to, well, <i>do the honours</i>. Because he was the King and it was his <i>responsibility</i>, wasn’t it? And he couldn’t ask one of his men to do something he wouldn’t do himself, and this was something that very much had to be kept private, and all that. </p><p>He looked over his shoulder at the book lying on the table, and pictured himself looming over Merlin like the man in the engraving, cock out and – to be brutally honest – somewhat less impressive. He took his hands off Merlin’s shoulders as if they were red-hot. “Well,” he said, “that is,” he said, “unless you’d rather I didn’t.”</p><p>“No,” said Merlin. “No! I mean, I’d rather do this with someone I trust –”</p><p>“Well, then,” said Arthur. “I suppose that’s settled.” An utterly mortified look crossed Merlin’s face – which pretty much summed up how Arthur felt. He reckoned they were both, more or less simultaneously, realising just what it was they’d agreed to. It wasn’t as if he’d never thought of Merlin that way; he had, but only idly. This wasn’t a line he’d ever anticipated their relationship crossing. What with Arthur being married to Guinevere and Merlin being – well, best Arthur had always been able to tell, married to his work. This was probably, he reflected dourly, going to ruin things between them. The thought hurt, but not as much as the thought of all Camelot drying out, he reminded himself.</p><p>“I’m going to, er,” said Merlin, “I’m going to go and – I’d better – I’m going to go be somewhere that isn’t here.” He began to back out of the room.</p><p>“I’ll – make arrangements,” said Arthur. “How many men –”</p><p>“Four,” said Merlin. “Plus you. Can you ask – you know?”</p><p>Arthur did know, or at least he understood Merlin’s significant look. “I’ll sort it out.”</p><p>“Thanks,” said Merlin. He backed out of the room, his hands held up as if in surrender, leaving his magic book behind. Arthur walked to the table and swivelled the book around to look at the engraving again. He couldn’t get over how lovingly detailed it was; careful etching of muscles, the delight taken in picking out each individual foreskin, the twisted arch of the sorcerer’s body amidst the tussle – Arthur swallowed. The whole effect was utterly hideous and hideously arousing. He sat down heavily in the nearest chair and tried, with little success, to tear his eyes away from the mesmerising, filthy thing. He wasn’t entirely dreading this – but good god, he did not envy Merlin.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>*</p>
</div>“Alright,” said Arthur. “I suppose you’re wondering why I’ve asked you here today.” He clapped his hands together. He’d gathered a careful selection of knights; Leon, Gwaine, Percival, Elyan. In response to his question they merely grunted. He couldn’t blame them for their lack of enthusiasm. They were dehydrated and over-heated to a man. Well, he could fix that. “I have some news for you.”<p>“Good news or bad news?” said Gwaine warily. </p><p>“Good news!” said Arthur. “Primarily. Primarily good news.”</p><p>“So good news and bad news?” said Elyan.</p><p>“Good new and –” Arthur considered what the appropriate adjective might be, and gave up. “I’ll just tell you, shall I? Merlin has found a solution to the drought problem.” That got them all sitting up straight in their chairs.</p><p>“What?” said Gwaine.</p><p>“What kind of solution?” said Leon.</p><p>“Why are you telling us?” said Elyan. “Shouldn’t you –”</p><p>“What’s the catch?” said Gwaine.</p><p>Arthur held up a hand to silence them. “It’s a ritual. It requires five men plus Merlin. I’m one,” he pointed at himself, then at each of them in turn, “two, three, four, five. Very tidy. Assuming you’re all willing and able.”</p><p>“Alright,” said Elyan. “What kind of a ritual?”</p><p>“Is there nudity involved?” asked Gwaine, sitting forward in his chair. He said it as if it were the most vital of questions.</p><p>“Emphatically and unfortunately yes,” said Arthur.</p><p>“Alright,” said Gwaine. “Do we have to dance naked?” There was a chorus of dismayed sounds. Arthur silenced them again.</p><p>“No,” he said. “It’s more a matter of –” He considered how best to explain it. He’d practiced in his head but all of his carefully-worded explanations shrivelled before their expectant stares. “You know, I think it’s best you see for yourself.” He lifted the book and turned to the page he had marked. He turned the book around in his hands, set it down, and slid it towards his knights. They leaned in and peered at the engraving.</p><p>Two of them swore. Elyan immediately burst out laughing. Leon buried his face in his hands. “Sire, you can’t be serious.”</p><p>“Deadly serious,” said Arthur. “Merlin assures me this is the best – the only – way forward.”</p><p>“Oh, he would!” said Gwaine. He pointed at the engraving, prodding the figure in the centre, the figure surrounding by all the horny men. “This is Merlin, right?”</p><p>“Yes,” said Arthur. “And –”</p><p>“Let me see that,” said Leon. He dragged the book down the table and cast his eye over the text, rather more studiously than Arthur had worked up the nerve to do yet.</p><p>Gwaine laughed, wiped at his eyes, and said, “well, I’m in.”</p><p>“You haven’t heard all of it yet,” said Arthur.</p><p>“I’ve heard enough,” said Gwaine. “What, you’re telling me you’ve never wondered what that boy’s like between the sheets?” He whistled.</p><p>“He’s not a boy,” said Arthur. “And thank you for the segue – you’re going to be the first to find out. Merlin’s a virgin.” The response was a second or two of silent incredulity.</p><p>“What,” said Elyan flatly.</p><p>“You can’t be serious,” said Gwaine. </p><p>“Are you sure he didn’t mean with men?” said Leon.</p><p>Arthur shook his head. “No. That was what I thought, but no. He says not with anybody.”</p><p>“You can’t be serious!” sputtered Gwaine. “You’re telling me <i>nobody</i> has bedded Merlin? Not ever?” Arthur shook his head. “It’s not as if no-one would want him.” This prompted a chorus of appreciative sounds and hums.</p><p>“He’s got that awkward puppy thing going, it’s nice,” said Elyan.</p><p>“I don’t even swing that way and I think I would,” said Percival. Well, he’d better.</p><p>“Plus magic’s sexy,” said Gwaine with a shrug.</p><p>“Alright, alright,” said Leon, holding up a finger. “I think I have this straight. It’s reasonably straightforward. “So we all – <i>do</i> – Merlin, one after the other. While he recites the first chant, which is in a language I don’t understand.” He cleared his throat. “And then the King – that’s the man presiding over the ritual which I assume will be, well, the King.” He looked up at Arthur for confirmation. Arthur nodded. “The King – <i>does</i> – Merlin, and while he’s doing that we all have to, er, spend somewhere on Merlin’s body, while he recites the second and third chants. It doesn’t seem all that complicated.” He set the book down. Elyan dragged it over, maybe to read it, maybe just for another look at the engraving.</p><p>“That’s what Merlin tells me,” said Arthur.</p><p>“Right,” said Leon, who after his initial shock was being unnervingly practical about the whole thing. “Well, we’re going to have to practice.”</p><p>“I thought you said it was simple,” said Percival.</p><p>“Yeah, but there’s logistics to think about,” said Leon, “and order of, er, play. And then there’s the question of how Merlin’s going to keep a clear enough head for <i>mystic chants</i> when he’s never done anything like this before.”</p><p>Arthur considered this. Damn, he had a point. “You have a point,” he conceded, resting one hand on the back of his chair. He was still standing. He didn’t feel comfortable discussing this sitting down.</p><p>“Plus there’s the matter of how we all have to spend <i>twice</i>,” said Elyan. “I don’t know if I have that much liquid in me right now, Sire.”</p><p>“Maybe some of us don’t,” said Gwaine with a grin.</p><p>“Shut up,” said Arthur. “And if you like I can see that your water rations are doubled.” He thought quickly. “Alright. Let’s get this over with quickly. Say tonight for practicing. Any objections?”</p><p>That got some enthusiasm, albeit subdued. “I’m not doing anything,” said Elyan.</p><p>“I dunno,” said Percival. “I never been with another man before.”</p><p>“It’s really not that different,” said Gwaine.</p><p>“And Merlin asked for your personally,” said Arthur, which wasn’t strictly true – Arthur had inferred from a significant look – but close enough, and Percival seemed flattered.</p><p>“Alright, I’m in,” he said.</p><p>“What about Lancelot?” asked Elyan. “Did he say no already or?”</p><p>“Well, we only need four men,” said Arthur. “And honestly, I didn’t think I could tear him away from my wife for long enough to do this.” His knights looked at each other, all pictures of discomfort. Arthur did not often acknowledge what was going on between Lancelot and Guinevere. He cleared his throat, leaned on the chair in a show of casualness, and said, “I hope it goes without saying that none of this leaves this chamber on pain of death.”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>*</p>
</div>“Does it really have to be on pain of <i>death</i>?” said Merlin. “Couldn’t it be – I don’t know, pain of you being really angry with them?”<p>“Doesn’t quite have the same punch, does it?” said Arthur.</p><p>“It’s not like they’d tell anyone. We trust them, don’t we?” said Merlin. He thought for a moment, then said, “well, maybe Gwaine would. If he was drunk.”</p><p>“Hence the threats,” said Arthur. “Anyway.” He cleared his throat and leaned on the bedpost, trying his utmost to feign nonchalance. “Are you alright to practice tonight?”</p><p>“Practice which part?” said Merlin. “The whole thing or just the sex? Cause if you mean the whole thing, I only have about half the chants memorised, so –”</p><p>“Just the sex,” said Arthur, appalled at his own bluntness. Merlin cringed. “Don’t look so mortified. It’s not going to be that bad.”</p><p>“I just can’t believe I’m making you all do this,” said Merlin.</p><p>“You’re not <i>making</i> us do this,” said Arthur. “You said this was the only way – it’s not as if any of this is your <i>fault</i>.”</p><p>Merlin shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe there was another way and I just couldn’t find it. I’ve been doing the best I could and all but I just couldn’t sit up there with my books any longer while people were suffering. For all we know there’s something way easier and less awkward out there that I just can’t find.”</p><p>“Nonsense,” said Arthur. “I’m sure you’ve done your best. Anyway, it’s certainly not your fault your resources are so limited. It was my father who had all the magic books in the kingdom burnt.” Well, most of them, except for the one that Gaius had kept hidden and a handful that someone – Arthur suspected Geoffrey, though of course he denied it – had secreted in a secret room off the library. Most of the rest of Merlin’s books were new acquisitions. Merlin had taken to raiding the supplies of every pedlar who came through the kingdom nowadays, just in case.</p><p>“Yeah, if you think about it that’s kind of your fault,” said Merlin. He said it like it was a joke, but Arthur did not appreciate his attempt at humour. He fixed Merlin with his hardest of glares till he said, “Um. Sorry. I’ll just let myself out, shall I? See you tonight.” He sidled out the room, leaving Arthur alone with his thoughts.</p><p>He elected to tell Guinevere what they planned to do. It wouldn’t feel right keeping it from her; it wasn’t really lady’s business (he did <i>not</i> show her the engraving) but it was kingdom business, which made it as much hers as his; and he felt that she ought to know if he was planning to bed someone else. She’d probably find out sooner or later. He didn’t want to upset her.</p><p>As it turned out she found the whole business unbearably funny. “Oh, dear,” she said. “Oh, poor Merlin. I’d best go and talk to him. Is he really that worried?”</p><p>“Excruciatingly so,” said Arthur. “Honestly. He should be honoured.” That brought another peal of laughter out of Gwen. She fled the room, leaving Arthur filled with the sense that she was going to hold this over his head later, somehow.</p><p>Well, it was a bit ridiculous, wasn’t it? Arthur had somehow got into a situation wherein he had to bugger the man who was – let’s face it – the closest thing he had to a best friend, and unless luck was very much on his side things were going to be awkward forever. He wondered how long it would be before he could look Merlin – or any of them, for that matter – in the eye again. A month? Two months? Six months? Longer? God, but it would be excruciating. </p><p>Much as he tried, he couldn’t find it in himself to share Gwaine’s enthusiasm. He was sure five men going at it at once could be fun, in the right circumstances, but he foresaw this being a <i>lie back and think of Camelot, there’s a good chap</i> situation for everyone involved.</p><p>Arthur clenched his hands into fists, then left his chambers. He headed for the practice field, intent on hitting something with a pointed implement for a few hours, conserving energy be damned.</p><p>He ran into Gwaine on his way back from the practice field; Gwaine, who flagged him down and said, “we’re still on for tonight, yeah?”</p><p>“Yes,” said Arthur. “Merlin wants to get this over with.”</p><p>“Good,” said Gwaine, with that damn twinkle in his eye, the same twinkle he got when he was planning to do something unspeakably awful. Arthur smiled a narrow smile and kept walking up the passage. He was sweaty. He wanted a bath before – the evening. Gwaine followed him. “Still can’t get over Merlin being a virgin, though.”</p><p>“Is it really that surprising?” said Arthur. “You ever hear of him having a sweetheart? I certainly didn’t.”</p><p>Gwaine had snorted at ‘sweetheart’. Arthur chose to ignore that. “Well, to tell you the truth,” he said. “Can I tell you the truth, sire?”</p><p>“If you must,” said Arthur.</p><p>“To tell you the truth, I always thought you and him were going at it, and I weren’t the only one,” said Gwaine. Arthur stopped dead in the passage and glowered at him. “What?”</p><p>“Seriously?” said Arthur. “That’s absurd.”</p><p>“Seriously, yeah,” said Gwaine. “It’s been what, five years? Six? And you two – not even once?” Arthur continued to glower. “On those long hunting trips you take? Not even a little hand-play? <i>Nothing</i>?”</p><p>“He was my <i>manservant</i>,” said Arthur. “It would have been – inappropriate. And then – well, then I was with Guinevere.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah,” said Gwaine, stroking his beard as if he understood, though Arthur wasn’t entirely sure he did. It was <i>Merlin</i>, for the love of god. They had a thing going. A nice, casual thing where they sniped at each other and teased and occasionally wrestled – or they used to, it had been a while, come to think of it – the way you did with a friend, and Arthur didn’t want to spoil that. He wanted things to stay the way they were. </p><p>Of course, now that he was King and Merlin was Court Sorcerer with his own duties that sometimes kept him up in that blasted tower room for days at a time, things had inevitably changed – but all for the better, Arthur liked to tell himself. “Can I ask you a personal question, sire?”</p><p>“No,” said Arthur. Gwaine duly ignored him.</p><p>“How long has it been since you’ve been <i>with</i> Guinevere?”</p><p>Arthur felt his face heat. He couldn’t quite find it in himself to answer – and curse everything, that was an answer in itself. “Thought so,” said Gwaine. “See you tonight, then.” He strode on down the passage, whistling to himself.</p><p>They’d agreed to meet a few hours before sun-down – which was late in the evening, as deep in summer as they were. Merlin was uncharacteristically early, sidling into Arthur’s room while he was still finishing his dinner. “I, um,” he said. “I made copies of the incantations.” He showed Arthur his sheaf of papers. “It’s alright, your parts aren’t very complicated. I didn’t join up the letters, cause I know Percival doesn’t read so well.”</p><p>“Thank you,” said Arthur. He mopped up the last of his dinner with his bread, and didn’t look too closely at the sheet of parchment Merlin was setting beside his plate.</p><p>“And I spelled it out phonetically for you,” said Merlin. “Phonetically means it’s the same as –”</p><p>“I know what phonetically means,” Arthur snapped. He would have joked that Merlin probably didn’t, but damn him, he had so many books now, he honestly did know words Arthur didn’t. Words like <i>thaumaturgy</i> and <i>chthonic</i> and <i>diegetic</i>. Merlin laid the rest of his papers out on the table and sat down.</p><p>“So do we have,” he said, “you know, a plan?”</p><p>“Not as such.” Arthur finished eating and shoved his plate away. He didn’t quite dare look Merlin in the eye. He looked at his hands as well, twisting nervously on the table – his long, knobbly fingers, his bitten nails, the slice of wrist poking out of his too-short sleeves. Arthur ought to set him up with the castle tailor again – and burn all his old clothes this time. His court sorcerer ought to be better-dressed. “Gwaine probably does.”</p><p>Of course Gwaine had a plan. He showed up with Percival in tow, with a bottle of something vile that he’d probably had imported from up north. “Courage, sire?” he said with a grin. Percival held up a handful of cups. “Courage?” he waved the bottle at Merlin. Before he could answer, in walked Leon and Elyan. “Ah, good sirs! Courage?”</p><p>Elyan said he’d have a sip. Leon took one sniff of the bottle and snorted, but he took a cup anyway, and if all his men were in Arthur couldn’t exactly say no. He downed half a cup, throat burning, and felt it warm his insides. He’d probably be glad of it.</p><p>“Courage?” Gwaine said again, waving a cup at Merlin.</p><p>“I think I want to be sober for this,” said Merlin.</p><p>“You sure about that?” said Elyan, pouring himself another cupful. Merlin considered, and took the cup. It made him sputter. They laughed, more out of nerves, Arthur thought, than genuine amusement – but once the laughter died down, they fell into a frostily awkward silence.</p><p>After half a minute or so, when Arthur was starting to wonder if he should give some instructions, Gwaine made his move. His first attempt at breaking the ice having failed, he turned to what was evidently plan B.</p><p>“Right, well,” he said to Merlin as he crossed the room. “You wanna get this over with?”</p><p>“Yeah, sure,” said Merlin; and Gwaine, with a casualness that left Arthur breathless and a little uncomfortable, took Merlin’s face in his hands and snogged him.</p><p>Somebody whooped; Percival said, “get in there!” Arthur wasn’t really paying attention. He was caught up in the way Merlin’s eyes had fluttered closed a moment too late, and the way his face was turning pink. Arthur had kissed Gwaine once, on a very drunken bet, and he had to admit, Gwaine was damn good at it. He was probably damn good at what he intended to do to Merlin next as well. Arthur made a pretty good guess at what was coming from the way Merlin flushed still deeper when Gwaine murmured it into his ear.</p><p>Gwaine was tugging Merlin towards the bed – <i>Arthur’s</i> bed, where he would have to sleep every night after this, if he could stand it – and with an ease that looked almost practiced and <i>must</i> have been planned, Percival grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him down onto the bare mattress, where he sat, Percival’s thumb rubbing his neck, Gwaine’s hands working to open up his breeches.</p><p>Merlin gasped; Arthur saw his whole body tense, and a second or so later there came a lewd sucking sound as Gwaine went to work in earnest. Gwaine was utterly shameless.</p><p>Arthur wasn’t sure when blowjobs became a spectator sport, but he was happy to watch this. Happy, if not entirely comfortable; he didn’t dare look Leon or Elyan in the eye and he wanted to move to stand somewhere he could see more than a hint of Merlin’s prick – just the head, flushed scarlet, dipping in and out of view as Gwaine shifted – but he didn’t dare do that either. There was a heavy tension in the air; Arthur’s stomach twisted, not unpleasantly. It had been a while. Gwaine was right. Damn him. Damn him and his evidently fabulous mouth, that was making Merlin make those <i>noises</i> – </p><p>Merlin yelped like he’d been stung, and he was coming; he must have been coming, cause Gwaine was pulling back and wiping his mouth, casual as anything, and Merlin had gone all limp, with an utterly befuddled look on his face. Percival let him slump back on the bed with a grin.</p><p>“Alright,” said Gwaine. He stood up and helped himself to Arthur’s leftover wine. “Shall we move on? Get your kit off, Merlin.”</p><p>“Who’s going to, you know,” said Leon. “Do the honours?” They looked at each other. On the bed, Merlin propped himself up on his elbows, with a quizzical look on his face. He didn’t look as if he had much of a preference.</p><p>“Well, I think I’m out,” said Percival.</p><p>“How come?” said Merlin. In response, Percival quietly unlaced his breeches. Merlin’s eyes widened. He fell back onto Arthur’s bed with a choked laugh, hands over his face.</p><p>“What’s so funny?” said Percival, sounding honestly hurt.</p><p>“Nah, he’s hysterical,” said Gwaine, as Merlin continued to laugh.</p><p>“Someone calm the fair maiden!” cried Elyan.</p><p>“M’not hysterical!” said Merlin, struggling to sit back up.</p><p>“But you are <i>technically</i> still a maiden,” said Elyan.</p><p>“Not sure about the fair part,” chipped in Leon. </p><p>Merlin glared at them, scandalised, and said, “I hate you all. Arthur, I hate them all. They’re all out, find four more.”</p><p>“I’m still in, then?” said Arthur.</p><p>“Well, <i>yeah</i>,” said Gwaine, rather too loudly. Merlin flushed yet again, and said,</p><p>“Alright, fine, but if I’m getting naked everyone’s getting naked.” There was a chorus of agreement. Elyan said that seemed reasonable, and stripped of his shirt. </p><p>Somehow, taking of their clothes made it easier. Arthur had seen his knights naked before – they’d gone swimming enough times – so taking off his clothes around them felt natural enough. He tried to think of it like that, one step at a time. </p><p>Percival broke the illusion for him. He’d got undressed first, and now he was turning down the bed properly, if a little clumsily. “Seriously, though, who’s going in first?”</p><p>“I’m game,” said Gwaine. He even raised a hand. Arthur felt a spark of jealousy – a spark that had been budding since Gwaine had kissed Merlin so casually – flare inside him, and before he could stop himself he said,</p><p>“No, you won’t.” They all looked at him, half of them confused and half of them with dreadful <i>smirks</i>, like they’d known he would say that. He cleared his throat. “I’m the king. I’m over-ruling you.” He wanted to add <i>because I’m the king</i>, but he stopped himself in time. Merlin was staring at him, almost as wide-eyed as he’d been when he’d seen Percival’s cock. “If that’s alright with you?” he said, trying to keep his tone light.</p><p>“No,” said Merlin. “It’s fine. It’s all fine.” He was naked; Arthur couldn’t keep his gaze from dropping to Merlin’s cock. It was still wet from Gwaine’s mouth. He looked away and stepped out of his own breeches and smallclothes.</p><p>It all went so quickly after that. They piled into Arthur’s bed, and Merlin’s nerves seemed to be easing up, for he was all but preening at being the centre of attention so. He was cushioned on Arthur’s pillows, Gwaine and Percival on either side of him, Leon’s hand splayed protectively on his stomach, Elyan’s big hand on his thigh – and two of Arthur’s fingers twisted into his arse. Thank goodness Gwaine had had the presence of mind to bring some oil with him. His weird plan had been helpful, much as Arthur hated to admit it.</p><p>“That feels weird,” said Merlin.</p><p>“Good weird or bad weird?” said Gwaine lazily.</p><p>“I dunno, just weird.” Merlin shifted his hips, tensing around Arthur’s fingers, and said, “I think I could take a bit more.” Elyan reached down and pushed one of his fingers in, straight alongside Arthur, stretching Merlin out properly. Merlin hissed and squirmed, fingers clawing at the sheets.</p><p>Percival took his wrists in one hand and dragged than back, pinning them against the pillows behind Merlin’s head, laughing at Merlin’s weak protests. “Stop wiggling,” he said.</p><p>“I’ll wiggle as much as I want,” said Merlin. He squirmed again, and regretted it. He bit down on his lip and hissed, then, before any of them could ask if he was alright, he laughed.</p><p>“Oi! Stop laughing!” said Percival.</p><p>“You good?” said Gwaine, cupping Merlin’s face in his hand.</p><p>“I’m fine,” said Merlin. Gwaine said something quiet into his ear, something that Arthur couldn’t hear but that made Merlin laugh again – and just like that they were kissing, in a sweet, gentle way that Arthur thought ought to be reserved for lovers, not for two friends kissing for – what, sex ritual practice? He burned again, but he couldn’t exactly tell them to stop. He pushed his fingers deeper and twisted them, so that Merlin made a choked noise into Gwaine’s mouth and pulled back a little from the kissing.</p><p>Gwaine’s fingers danced across Merlin’s hair, and Arthur wished he could do that. He wished he could just grab Merlin and kiss him the way Gwaine had, but he couldn’t. It would be too – too sudden, too awkward, too not-Arthur. And what if Merlin didn’t want him? Or worse, what if Merlin didn’t want him, but said that he did, because Arthur was the King – and who could say no to a King? That was the thought that stopped Arthur these days, and not just with Merlin. What if they felt they couldn’t say no?</p><p>The dirty truth of it was he hadn’t done anything like this either. Oh, he’d been with other men, but they’d only ever exchanged blowjobs, or done what Gwaine had so eloquently dubbed <i>hand-play</i>. And he’d had his cock up someone’s arse a few times, but only girls, and both of them whores, down in the city. They’d been nice enough girls, but he’d not visited for years. That wasn’t him any more.</p><p>And he and Guinevere – well, things were complicated. They’d always been complicated.</p><p>Elyan had got another finger inside Merlin, working him open like he was an old hand at it – and maybe he was, Elyan was very private about that sort of thing – and Merlin was taking measured breaths and pushing his hips up, up into Arthur and Elyan’s hands. “Okay,” he said. “Okay, I think I want to try this.”</p><p>“Are you sure?” said Leon.</p><p>Merlin nodded. “I want to get this over with,” he said. He glanced at Arthur. “Not that you’re not – sire.”</p><p>“Right,” said Arthur. “Turn over, then.” He knew enough to know that was the best way to do it.</p><p>Merlin bit his lip. “Book says to do it facing each other.”</p><p>“I don’t care what the book says,” said Arthur. He pulled his fingers out of Merlin’s arse – it was wet and a little slack – and motioned to Percival and Gwaine. They rolled Merlin over, ignoring his half-hearted protests. Merlin’s legs splayed out on either side of Arthur; then, clumsily as ever, he pulled them up, crawling into position.</p><p>Arthur sighed and took himself in hand. He was already halfway there, it didn’t take much to get – yes – hard. There were hands all over Merlin, holding him down; two more wouldn’t hurt. He took hold of Merlin’s thighs and spread him open, running his hand across the wiry fuzz of hair on Merlin’s leg. His hole was glistening with the oil, but it had tautened right up, it looked so small. Arthur wondered if maybe he should call this off, get him more ready, or if one of the others should take over – because Arthur wasn’t as impressive as Percival, true, but he wasn’t exactly small either – but Merlin shifted on the bed and said, “ready, <i>sire</i>.”</p><p>He took himself in hand again and pushed his cock against Merlin’s hole. Merlin tensed and recoiled, breathing sharp beneath his teeth. “Sorry,” said Arthur, pulling back. Gwaine was rubbing the back of Merlin’s neck, soothing.</p><p>Arthur tried again. This time Merlin stayed put, but he was still tense and tight, and much as Arthur wanted to be gentle he had to push in hard, with Elyan’s fingers holding Merlin apart, before it would go.</p><p>Merlin opened up around him, inch by inch, muscles squeezing Arthur’s cock; he had to stop for a moment to breathe, lest he come right there. Damn. Damn, and damn. </p><p>“Oh,” said Merlin. “That feels <i>big</i>.”</p><p>Arthur huffed a laugh. “Of <i>course</i> it does,” he said, trying to talk as casually as Gwaine would, and he pushed, working his cock the rest of the way in. He gripped Merlin’s thighs and thrust his hips forward in stuttering jerks till his balls were pressing against Merlin’s arse, and Merlin was gasping for breath, and the air around the bed seemed unbearably hot.</p><p>“You alright?” he said. No-one else was talking, but their hands were still on Merlin. Percival was still holding his wrists, but loosely now. Merlin’s hands were limp in his grip.</p><p>“Yeah,” said Merlin. “Feels weird.”</p><p>“Good weird or bad weird?” asked Arthur.</p><p>“Good weird,” said Merlin. “Definitely good weird.” He shifted on the bed, and every movement seemed to go straight to Arthur’s cock. He gritted his teeth and tried not to think too hard about what was happening, too hard about the fact that he was about to fuck Merlin, the way he could feel Merlin breathing, feel his pulse, reverberating through him like a drum beat – </p><p>“Come on,” Merlin was saying. “Come <i>on</i>.”</p><p>Arthur began to move, in and out in shallow thrusts that were all he dared and all he could bear. Below him Merlin was stretched out on the bed, back arched like a cat. Percival had let go of his hands, and he was gripping the sheets so tight in knuckles were pale yellow. Gwaine’s hand was in his hair, clutching at the place at the back of his neck where it was getting too-long. Somebody – at least one somebody – was touching themselves, but Arthur didn’t look to see which of them it was. </p><p>He looked down, at the place where the base of his cock was working in and out of Merlin, where it was red-hot and tight, where everything was stretched out almost to breaking point. He heard Merlin gasp and say, “sire,” and that was enough for him. His orgasm was wrung out of him like water from cloth, and he sagged atop Merlin, trying to breathe.</p><p>Somebody – Elyan, it was Elyan – had begun to jerk Merlin off. He came just as Arthur’s softening prick slipped out of him, gasping and tensing against the bedsheets. Somebody – Arthur couldn’t tell who – had come on Merlin’s back. He supposed that was good practice as well.</p><p>“That wasn’t so bad,” said Merlin, short of breath like he’d run a while.</p><p>“I should hope not,” said Arthur, swatting half-heartedly at the back of Merlin’s thigh. Merlin grunted, kicked at him – then closed his eyes and to all appearances went to sleep.</p><p>Gwaine chuckled. “Well done, sire,” he said. “You fucked him unconsciousness.”</p><p>“M’not unconscious,” Merlin mumbled. “M’just resting my eyes.”</p><p>“Good.” Arthur patted Merlin on the back of his thigh, feeling a little awkward at how not-awkward it felt. “You <i>rest your eyes</i>. You ought to be rested for tomorrow. You all ought to be.” He climbed off the bed, ignoring the groans and expressions of protest from his knights.</p><p>“This was getting to be fun,” said Elyan.</p><p>“There’ll be plenty of fun tomorrow night,” said Arthur as he stepped back into his breeches. That did it. He heard a rustling and a fumbling behind him as his knights unfolded themselves from the bed, leaving Merlin curled alone in the middle of it.</p><p>By the time they’d all left, it became apparent that he was, truly, asleep. Arthur surveyed him from the end of the bed, one hand wrapped around a bedpost, considering. He ought to wake Merlin up and send him back to his room, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to. Merlin had looked so wrung out – and not just from the sex. Arthur thought he hadn’t been sleeping well. The bed he had up in his tower room was narrow and the room got so cold at night. Arthur had put aside a proper bedroom for him, but he refused to use it. He said the bed was too big and fancy for him. He’d told Arthur he missed his old room, but Gaius had turned it into a store room for his ever-growing collection of books and jars and artefacts almost the moment Merlin moved out.</p><p>But there was Merlin, fast asleep and quite comfortable in Arthur’s bed. Arthur had a suspicion that if he made Merlin get up and move his bony arse back to his own chambers he might not sleep again for nerves. He took the coverlet from the floor, where Percival had folded it, and draped it over Merlin.</p><p>He gave himself a wash down at the basin; he dressed himself in his nightshirt; he slid into bed alongside Merlin, rolling him over to the other side of the bed as gently as he could.</p><p>With the candles blown out and the fire low in the grate, the room was moonlit; in the grey light Merlin looked fragile, almost ethereal, like smudgy lines of chalk on dark stone. Arthur had to touch him to be sure he was real, resting a hand on his arm, squeezing. He moved his hand down to Merlin’s wrist. He’d lost weight, since Arthur was King; since he’d been Court Sorcerer, with all the eyes of the court scrutinising him. It hadn’t been an unpopular decision, legalising magic, but neither had it been popular, and even those at court who approved didn’t like Arthur’s choice of Court Sorcerer. </p><p>It was an ancient and venerable office, one usually held by a nobleman or woman – held by someone elderly and distinguished of high birth and blood, not some peasant who not a year ago had been a mere servant. There’d been two attempts on Merlin’s life since he’d taken the position – poison, both of them, and only one of the poisoners caught. Arthur was still trying to convince Merlin to let him hire a taster. Guinevere was still trying to coax Merlin to eat more. (There was something dreadfully counter-productive going on, Arthur was sure.)</p><p>It was at moments like this that Arthur almost didn’t blame them, for there Merlin was, skinny and fragile and still looking as much a boy as he did when first he set foot in Camelot. It was at moments like this that Arthur couldn’t quite wrap his head around just how much power lay behind that awkward, boyish façade.</p><p>Merlin snuffled like some sort of small animal and rolled over. For a moment Arthur thought he was awake, and his stomach sank. But Merlin hadn’t even stirred. He was just restless. His head rolled against Arthur’s pillow, he sighed, and he was still. Arthur watched him till his breathing slowed, then turned over himself. He closed his eyes tight, determined to ignore the sounds of Merlin slumbering beside him and go to sleep. It wasn’t as if they’d not slept beside each other before. They’d been on enough hunting trips and expeditions and deadly quests together. But it hadn’t been like this. No.</p><p>It was a long while before Arthur slept.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>*</p>
</div>He was woken early the next morning by a thin shaft of sunlight lancing through the gap in the bed curtains onto his face. He blinked and scowled, exasperated at finding himself awake. Then he heard a sigh behind him, and he remembered Merlin.<p>He rolled over. Merlin did not seem to have moved since last night. He was lying curled on the far side of the bed, facing away from Arthur, his shoulder rising and falling gently as he breathed. Arthur shuffled across the bed and considered him. He ought, he supposed, to get up and leave Merlin to wake in his own time. </p><p>He touched Merlin’s arm, squeezing gently. He ran a hand down Merlin’s flank, where he could feel his ribs beneath his skin. He reached Merlin’s hip and stopped, tracing his hand back up. Merlin flinched, and mumbled, and he was awake. Arthur started. He hadn’t meant to wake him.</p><p>“Wha’?” said Merlin. “Arthur?”</p><p>“Shh,” said Arthur. “Shh. Go back to sleep.” Merlin twisted slightly, and his hand slid from Merlin’s side to his flat stomach. They were pressed flush together. </p><p>“I can’t sleep with you <i>fondling</i> me,” said Merlin.</p><p>“I’m not fondling,” said Arthur, affronted. “I’m – practicing.”</p><p>“Practicing?” Merlin settled his head against the pillow with a sigh. “Didn’t we do that already?”</p><p>“No such thing as too much practice,” said Arthur, which was entirely true, but he wasn’t sure he was practicing for anything in particular. He pressed his lips against Merlin’s shoulder, and felt him shiver. He kissed his neck, lingering, and Merlin said, dully,</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>Something in his tone struck Arthur, and he drew back, thinking Merlin wanted him to stop. But Merlin caught his hand, caught it by the wrist, and tugged Arthur’s arm back around him. “It’s alright,” he said, still holding Arthur’s wrist. He guided Arthur’s hand downwards. “It’s alright,” he repeated. His prick was small enough soft that Arthur could cup it and his balls together in his palm, and Merlin sighed.</p><p>“You weren’t even trying to wake me,” he said as Arthur toyed with his cock. “Were you? You just wanted to fondle me in my sleep.”</p><p>“I wasn’t <i>fondling</i>,” Arthur said again. “You fell asleep in <i>my</i> bed.”</p><p>“No excuse,” said Merlin, his breath beginning to hitch. “You could have sent me away.”</p><p>“And wake you up?” said Arthur. “You look so <i>pretty</i> when you sleep.” Merlin snorted, and pressed himself even more tightly against Arthur. Arthur’s cock slid between his arse cheeks, and Arthur’s casual air crumbled. “Oh, hell,” he said. “Can I?” Merlin murmured an assent, pushing back.</p><p>Merlin was still loose enough and wet enough from the night before that it wasn’t too difficult. A little spit and Arthur was working his cock back in. It was different at this angle, tighter, closer, Merlin’s bony shoulder blades pressing into his chest, his hair brushing Arthur’s nose. </p><p>He was making short noises that sounded almost pained, and Arthur stopped, worried. He slid his hand back down Merlin’s chest and found his erection flagging, but before he could say anything Merlin said, “no, it’s alright. It’s alright. S’nice.” Arthur ran his hand back up Merlin’s side, to his shoulder, his arm; he found Merlin’s hand, loosely curled against the pillow, and held it while he pushed the rest of the way in.</p><p>He held Merlin’s hand while he fucked him, shallow and gentle, listening to Merlin’s hitching breaths, watching his eyelids flutter as he rocked his hips back and forth. He stroked Merlin’s palm with his thumb; he’d be content to do this forever. It was so <i>good</i>, better than it had been the night before with all his knights watching – better than Arthur had had in months. He pressed his lips against Merlin’s neck, finding his pulse-point and kissing it.</p><p>It couldn’t last forever, though. His balls throbbed and he came, cock buried inside Merlin, forehead pressed against Merlin’s shoulder, gripping Merlin’s hand like a lifeline, and damn, blood hell and damn, <i>Merlin</i>.</p><p>His cock slipped out of Merlin; Merlin’s slack hand slid out of his grip. He touched Merlin’s wrist, ran his fingers over the jutting bones there, then reached for Merlin’s cock and found it hard. He stroked once, twice, and Merlin came, gasping.</p><p>They lay together for a moment – and then Merlin twisted in his arms, rolling over, and they were so close their noses bumped together awkwardly. “Morning,” Merlin said, his eyes on Arthur’s lips. Arthur’s hand touched the back of his neck. He reflected for a moment that he had never touched Merlin there, in all the years he’d known him – he’d see Merlin rub the back of his neck enough times, seen it constantly sunburnt in summer and half-covered by ratty scarves in winter, but he’d never touched it – and he reflected that it was an odd thing to be struck by, when he’d had his dick up Merlin’s arse twice in the last twelve hours or so – and Merlin kissed him.</p><p>Merlin’s mouth was soft and hot and wet, and Arthur lost himself in it almost at once. He’d never kissed Merlin either. Five years, and he’d never so much as kissed him. He wondered what the hell he’d been doing, wasting all that time that could have been spent kissing Merlin with activities other than kissing Merlin, because it was lovely. For all his clumsy, exuberant inexperience, Merlin kissed Arthur like it was the only thing in the world that mattered, like there was truly nothing else he’d rather be doing – and it was lovely.</p><p>Arthur had his hand twisted in Merlin’s too-long hair. They were kissing wet and open-mouthed, Merlin’s tongue soft and gentle in Arthur’s mouth, and Arthur was quite content to do this all morning – he could wile away hours before he got bored, he was certain – when there was a noise, heavy footsteps in the passage outside.</p><p>Merlin started. “Mmph,” he said, and he pulled back. Arthur tried not to let him, holding fast to his hair and his lips, but Merlin dragged himself away. “Mm. Not that I’m not enjoying this, but I have – things to do. For tonight.”</p><p>“I thought you said it was easy,” said Arthur, voice a little hoarse. Merlin sat up and flicked the bed-curtains open with his magic. In an instant he was lit up by golden sunlight, and Arthur blinked.</p><p>“It is,” said Merlin. “But there’s still – things. I need to go over the incantations – and there’s herbs to get together –” He stood up, wincing at the cold flagstones, and sought out his breeches. He was stepping into them when Arthur said,</p><p>“I thought you said it didn’t need anything?”</p><p>“It doesn’t need anything I can’t get hold of today,” said Merlin. “Honestly, most of it’s stuff the kitchen will have. There’s a few things from Gaius’s stores. Olive oil. Basil. That sort of thing.”</p><p>“Sounds like you’re cooking chicken,” said Arthur.</p><p>“What would you know about cooking chicken?” said Merlin. He shrugged on his shirt and turned back to look at Arthur. Their eyes met for a scant second, and then Merlin was collecting up his shoes and jacket and hurrying to do the door. “I’ll see you tonight,” he was saying. “I’m sure you have things to do as well.”</p><p>“Well, yes,” said Arthur. “I’m only the King.” But Merlin was out the door almost before he finished his sentence. He lay back on his bed with an exaggerated sigh, one arm flung out towards the window, towards the space Merlin had previously occupied. The bed was in disarray; they’d gone and made a mess of the sheets.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>*</p>
</div>Of course, Arthur had things to do before the ritual as well, but they mostly consisted of informing his privy council that a ritual was going to be performed while taking care to omit the details. Fortunately none of them knew enough of magic to recognise the oddness of an indoor ritual to induce rain.<p>That done, he put it out of his mind and went through the other business of the day. He did such a fine job of putting it out of his mind that he was almost surprised when he returned to his chambers in the afternoon and found Merlin preparing his bed. “Don’t worry,” he said at Arthur’s expression. “These are old sheets. I had them fetched out specially.” He was painting a wide circle in muddy-brown upon the sheet – and, Arthur couldn’t help but notice, walking a little awkwardly. He crossed the room and leaned against a bedpost in a show of nonchalance.</p><p>“Are you sure you’re alright to do this?” he said.</p><p>Merlin glanced up at him. “Of course,” he said. </p><p>“It’s just it’s quite a lot,” said Arthur. “And you’re not very… experienced.” Merlin gave him a longer look. “At sex, I mean. Not magic.”</p><p>“I was alright last night, wasn’t I?” said Merlin.</p><p>“Well, that was just me,” said Arthur. The conversation was growing more awkward with every word that passed his lips. “I mean – are you sure you can take all five of us?”</p><p>Merlin was leaned across the bed, finishing off the circle, and abruptly his hand clenched against the sheets. “I’ll be fine,” he said, half-muttering.</p><p>“Are you sure?” said Arthur. The back of Merlin’s neck was flushed red, and he had a sudden wild urge to put his hand there, like he had that morning.</p><p>“Well, you know,” said Merlin, his casual tone not quite masking a note of hysteria in his voice. “So long as my insides don’t fall out or anything I think I’ll be okay.”</p><p>Arthur winced, and did his best to quash that mental image. “I don’t think that’s a thing that can happen,” he said soothingly.</p><p>“No, it is,” said Merlin. “I read it in a book.”</p><p>“Well,” said Arthur. “I’m sure it won’t. Happen to you.”</p><p>“Let’s hope not,” said Merlin, and this time he sounded sincerely cheerful. He finished his circle and looked up at Arthur. “<i>Sire</i>. I’ll be fine. Honest. I’m more worried about forgetting the words.”</p><p>“So long as you’re sure,” said Arthur as Merlin gathered up his things.</p><p>“I’ll see you this evening, Sire,” said Merlin. He left the room, leaving Arthur alone. The paint made the room smell faintly of the forest; there was probably some special plant in there. Arthur considered the circle, then drew the curtains around it and sent for his new manservant – a quiet, stern-faced boy – to bring him some water to wash. He was probably fairly clean as it was – he hadn’t been on the field and he’d washed as best he could that morning – but it was best to be safe. And after all, if Merlin’s ritual worked then soon enough the waste wouldn’t matter.</p><p>Washing left him damp and oddly sticky for the rest of the afternoon; the rest of the afternoon, which was somehow empty despite his ordinarily overwhelming duties. Merlin had instructed them all to fast for a few hours before the ritual, so he couldn’t even fill the time by eating dinner.</p><p>At long last, all of his knights were gathered in his chamber. They’d all memorised their part of the chanting – though Merlin had to correct Leon on some of his pronunciation – and Merlin had prepared a curious mixture of oil and herbs that did indeed smell like something one should cook with rather than smear on one’s body. </p><p>But smear it Merlin did, on each of their forehead’s in turn. “It’s <i>cold</i>,” Gwaine grumbled. “Could you not have warmed it up?”</p><p>“Stop whining,” Merlin said. “At least it’s not hot.”</p><p>“It smells like soup,” said Percival, sniffing at the bowl Merlin had left on the table. Gwaine sniggered, sending oil trickling into his eyebrows.</p><p>“Stop giggling while I’m anointing you!” Merlin snapped. He sighed and began to wipe Gwaine’s forehead clean.</p><p>“Oi, do you really have to start again?” said Gwaine.</p><p>“Hold still,” said Merlin. He anointed Gwaine – properly, this time – then Percival, Leon, Elyan and finally Arthur. His touch was very firm, and he kept his eyes fixed on Arthur’s forehead. “Alright,” he said, pressing the bowl into Arthur’s hands. “Now you do me. Wait, hang on.” He took a step back and stripped off his shirt.</p><p>He showed Arthur the lines that had to be drawn on his chest – from below the base of his neck to his navel, and across from nipple to nipple – while the knights chatted and undressed around them. Arthur painted the oily mixture across Merlin’s chest, his fingers catching in the fine hair. He took his time over it, circling each of Merlin’s nipples carefully, but he could only linger for so long.</p><p>“Okay,” said Merlin as he finished. “That is quite cold, isn’t it? Sorry.” He stepped out of his breeches. “Are we ready, then?”</p><p>They were ready; the only thing left to do was, ah, <i>prepare</i> Merlin, and that was best done on Arthur’s bed, with his legs spread and a pillow under his shoulder blades. Elyan did it, since he seemed to know what he was doing, while Merlin lay back with Arthur sitting on one side of him and Gwaine on the other. After a while he said, “I think I’m good, now.” Elyan’s hand drew back. Merlin pushed himself up on his elbows. “Everyone knows what to do, right?”</p><p>They all did. They took up their positions; Gwaine and Percival kneeling on one side of Merlin’s body, Elyan on the other side, beside Arthur, and Leon positioned between his legs. “Alright,” said Merlin. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, then opened them and began the incantation. He’d explained to Arthur what this bit meant; it was a verbal offering, and it identified each of them and their parts in the ritual. Merlin – Merlin’s body – was the earth; the four knights were the rain; Arthur was the sun. </p><p>But on Merlin’s lips it was in the old language, which he spoke as if it was his mother tongue, and perhaps it was, in a way. It flowed off his lips so smoothly that Arthur lost his place, and the knights likely did as well. It was just as well Merlin took a moment to nod to Leon when he was done, and it was Leon’s time to begin. It was best they not speak outside of the chanting. It might not hurt the ritual if they spoke, but Merlin wasn’t altogether sure and they weren’t risking it.</p><p>Merlin opened his legs, his trembling thighs parting. Arthur saw, out of the corner of his eye, Leon reach down and toy with him for a moment; then, after a quick glance at Merlin’s face for a last scrap of assent, Leon was pushing in. </p><p>Elyan had done a good job getting him ready. Merlin’s arse made a wet sound, and his voice hitched, but he kept chanting through it. There was a pause, and he waved a hand; that was their cue. They all, slightly clumsily, said their response.</p><p>That was what it was like, to begin with; mechanical, and a little clumsy. Arthur kept his eyes on Merlin’s face, not looking down his body at where Leon was fucking him – though he could still hear the sounds, of course he could. Merlin’s eyes were gold, and he wasn’t looking at Arthur. He wasn’t looking at anything in particular; he was staring up at the bed canopy, his gaze unfocused. But Arthur was holding his hand, and every so often he would squeeze gently, and Arthur would squeeze back.</p><p>Leon finished with a grunt, and Merlin squeezed Arthur’s hand tight at the sensation. Then Leon was pulling back, and Gwaine was taking his place. Arthur turned to watch, to make sure he was gently, and saw Gwaine rest a hand on Merlin’s taut, twitching stomach as he pushed in. He turned away.</p><p>They’d discussed the ordering. It had been the most awkward part of the whole ordeal so far, with poor Leon having to confess that, as the oldest of them, he probably had the longest recovery time and should go first. Percival was going last. He was the youngest as well as the biggest, though he didn’t look it.</p><p>It was while Gwaine was fucking Merlin that Arthur began to feel it. Probably Merlin had felt it from the start, the build-up of energy between the five of them, but Arthur could only feel it now. He felt his skin prickle, coming up in goosebumps. And dimly he could <i>feel</i> Merlin and Gwaine – feel the coupling, like the ghost of a sensation. It was profoundly weird and kind of amazing, and it must have been better for Gwaine, because his thrusts were getting ragged. Merlin’s voice was hitching. Arthur hesitated, then touched his face, getting Merlin to meet his gaze. Merlin looked up at him, and his eyes seemed to say quite clearly, <i>I’m alright, I’m alright</i>.</p><p>The noise Gwaine made when he spent in Merlin went straight to Arthur’s groin. He tightened his grip on Merlin’s hand, for the first time looking forward to what he had to do. </p><p>Merlin broke off his chanting for a moment while Elyan pushed into him, biting his lip and gasping. Arthur counted in his head, waiting for Merlin to start chanting. He’d hate for them to have to begin again, but Merlin needed a moment. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like, taking three men in such quick succession.</p><p>Elyan didn’t take long. He spent in Merlin in what seemed like no time at all, pushing in, in, in and then going slack. Merlin was shaking all over, but he was taking it fine, or Arthur thought he was till Percival took Elyan’s place. Merlin gasped at the sensation and stopped chanting. His eyes were rolled back in his head; Arthur could only see a sliver of gold. </p><p>He was quiet the whole time Percival was getting his formidable cock inside. Arthur counted to ten and still he was quiet – or not quiet, still gasping for breath, but not chanting. He deliberated – he’d hate to ruin it, truly he would, but they would do it again, surely, it wasn’t like it took much. He touched Merlin’s face, tilting his head so that Merlin would have to look him in the eye. “Merlin,” he said gently, softly. “Merlin, are you alright?”</p><p>Merlin blinked, and his eyes rolled back into view. “M’fine,” he mumbled. “M’<i>fine</i>. Shut <i>up</i>.” He turned his eyes back to the bed canopy and began his chant, stumbling through the words.</p><p>For all Merlin was the power behind the ritual, it reduced him to a mere vessel. Arthur found it disquieting. He wished they could have found something else, something that didn’t force Merlin into this position, strung out gasping between five men. But he nodded at Percival to go on.</p><p>Merlin’s voice hitched and stuttered with every thrust, and Percival was making rough, harsh noises. Arthur could still feel it; it was getting still more intense. He could feel it in his belly, in his groin. It ached – it almost hurt, but it was good, good like sinking into a warm bath but also kind of good like having his cock sucked.</p><p>When Percival finished, with a yell, he thought he was ready. He steeled himself and crouched between Merlin’s legs, hang on his cock, working himself fully hard and waiting for Merlin to given him the nod to go ahead. Gwaine had taken Merlin’s hand, squeezing gently. Arthur was glad of that; somebody needed to make sure Merlin was alright, now he was at the wrong end. </p><p>Merlin finished off his chant and closed his thighs. He looked up at each of the knights, checking for any protests, then looked at Arthur, his eyes still gold, and nodded. Arthur took himself in hand, parted Merlin’s thighs, and pressed himself against Merlin’s hole. He was so loose and so wet; he thought to himself that it probably wouldn’t be difficult, and then his cock slipped inside.</p><p>He’d thought he was ready – but he wasn’t, he was <i>so</i> not ready for it. It was like sticking his cock into a fire, except instead of hurting it felt better than anything. Merlin’s insides were like a storm of golden light, of magic, and Arthur could feel it through his whole body. And he could feel Merlin’s body as well; he could feel what Merlin was feeling, feel what it was like to be fucked, and for all it burned it felt wonderful.</p><p>He was fucking Merlin properly before he knew what he was doing. Merlin was chanting, and the knights were answering. He was glad he didn’t have to chant, because there was no way in hell he could muster words right now. Maybe that was why the King or the Sun or whatever he was didn’t have to chant.</p><p>That was what he was, the Sun. He felt like the Sun. He felt like he was fucking Merlin like a force of nature; he was fucking him properly, thoroughly, and he’d meant to be gentle because he didn’t want to hurt Merlin but he just couldn’t stop, he couldn’t stop. Merlin’s legs curled around his waist and cinched tight, holding him in. He could hear himself and he ought to be embarrassed, the noise he was making, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything but Merlin, Merlin who was his other half, his counterbalance. </p><p>One of the knights came on Merlin’s chest, just below his nipple, and it seemed to sizzle like butter in a hot pan. Merlin’s arms were spread out across the pillow, his fingertips lolling out of the circle. Gwaine had let go of his hand. These things Arthur saw dimly, distantly, as if he was hovering above his body. He was watching the scene from somewhere level with the bed canopy, watching himself fuck Merlin and Merlin’s eyes grow brighter and brighter with every thrust. Percival came on Merlin’s belly and the room grew a shade hotter.</p><p>A moment later Arthur was fully and bodily himself again, and equally bodily he was Merlin. They were both coming like they’d never come before, like a dam bursting after being struck by lightning. It seemed to last an age, and maybe it did. You never knew with magic.</p><p>He felt something drain out of him and he fell, boneless, atop Merlin. Merlin’s legs were still clasped loosely around his waist; Merlin’s hands were on his shoulders, steadying him, and his eyes were wide open. Arthur watched the gold drain out of them like water into the earth. Merlin’s eyes were so blue, even with his pupils blown out huge; blue, with flecks of gold in them that Arthur had never noticed before.</p><p>Merlin’s hands moved from Arthur’s shoulder to his damp hair. He tousled Arthur’s hair for a second, then dragged him down and kissed him. He kissed Arthur like he wanted to drink him up, like he wanted to consume him; it was a messy tangle of tongues and lips and teeth and Arthur loved every second of it.</p><p>He’d all but forgotten his knights were watching till Gwaine made a whooping sound. Merlin pulled back just enough to talk, his teeth tugging at Arthur’s lips. “Gwaine, shut up.”</p><p>“Be honest,” said Gwaine, ungodly cheery for a man who’d been through what they just went through. “Did you set this whole thing up just for an excuse to shag Arthur?”</p><p>Merlin made a furious noise into Arthur’s mouth. He pulled back further, snatched the pillow from behind his head, and flung it at Gwaine hard enough to knock him back onto his elbows. There was laughter.</p><p>“Would you like us to leave you alone, sire?” said Elyan.</p><p>“Yes,” said Arthur. He turned his head – with some difficulty, Merlin’s arms were winding around his neck – and gestured at the door. “All of you. Out. Now.”</p><p>They exchanged glances, but didn’t move, or not fast enough for Arthur. He knelt up on the bed and glowered at them till they gathered their clothes, dressed – with quite remarkable speed, considering – and left his chambers.</p><p>Merlin’s head fell back against the mattress with a sigh. “Okay,” he said. “Okay, wow.” His hands reached up and touched Arthur’s chest, trailing down his sides, and Arthur shivered.</p><p>“Yeah,” he said.</p><p>“We should,” said Merlin. “We should talk. About things.” He yawned.</p><p>“Yeah, probably.” Arthur traced his fingers down the line on Merlin’s chest, the line he’d marked earlier with the oil. It was still slick. Merlin’s head nodded, and fell to the side. His chest rose and fell gently. “Merlin?” Arthur nudged his face softly with his fist. He was asleep, or near enough. Asleep, and filthy, atop filthy sheets. Arthur considered the predicament, and climbed out of bed.</p><p>He wiped himself down as best he could, dressed himself, and went to the door. He’d send for a proper bath, he decided. A proper bath, since he was sure the ritual had worked – he’d felt it, and Merlin had felt it, and most likely they’d all felt it – so it wasn’t truly an extravagance. And clean sheets.</p><p>That done, he drew the bed curtains about Merlin’s prone form and waited. When he opened them again, after a brief squabble with the maid to the effect of no, she absolutely could not change his sheets herself, Merlin was lying curled on his side. “Merlin.” He reached out and shook Merlin’s shoulder. “Merlin, wake up.” Merlin groaned. Arthur shook more insistently.</p><p>“G’way,” said Merlin. “M’sleeping.”</p><p>“Yes, I can see that,” said Arthur. “You’re also sticky.” He rolled Merlin onto his back. Merlin propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at his own chest, shiny with oil and spattered with come.</p><p>“Oh yeah,” he said.</p><p>“I’ve drawn you a bath, look,” said Arthur. Merlin looked at the bath and seemed to quaver at the distance between it and the bed. He lay back down with a shuddering sigh.</p><p>“I can’t <i>move</i>,” he moaned. “I don’t think I can walk.”</p><p>“I’ll help you,” said Arthur. He dragged Merlin across the bed, ignoring his protests, and hefted him onto the floor so he’d have to at least co-operate. Merlin was glad of it once he was settled in the bath with Arthur slowly rinsing his hair. They’d got come in it, somehow.</p><p>“I feel really weird,” he observed.</p><p>“It’s small wonder,” said Arthur. “After what you just did.”</p><p>“No, I mean <i>weird</i>,” Merlin drawled, as if he was providing some sort of clarity.</p><p>“Yes, you do,” he agreed, and that seemed to be what Merlin wanted to hear. He almost fell asleep in the tub. Arthur had to shake him awake to ask about the sheets. “I don’t suppose you’re up to changing the bed.” Merlin gave him a furiously reproachful look. “I mean with magic.”</p><p>“So did I,” said Merlin. “Arthur. I’m exhausted. <i>You</i> do it.”</p><p>“I don’t know how!” Arthur protested. He’d been planning to do it himself, but now that the clean sheets had arrived he didn’t know where to start. There were at least six separate pieces and he didn’t have a clue what order they went with.</p><p>Merlin sighed and closed his eyes, and Arthur thought he was going to sleep again. But he waved his hand vaguely at the bed and it stripped itself. The new sheets worked their way on, one after the other – oh, so <i>that</i> was how they went – and Merlin stayed awake just long enough to crawl in.</p><p>Arthur gave himself a clean with Merlin’s bathwater, filthy as it was and dumped the dirty sheets in the corner to be dealt with in the morning. Then he turned and surveyed Merlin. He walked around the bed and ran a hand fondly across Merlin’s still-damp hair – then, with an air of what-the-hell, he stripped off his clothes and slipped between the cool sheets to lie beside him. He draped an arm around Merlin’s waist, closed his eyes, and fell asleep listening to Merlin breathing.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>*</p>
</div>Arthur was woken the next morning by a persistent drumming. As he lay, hovering between sleep and wakefulness, it was merely annoying; but then, abruptly, he woke up fully and recognised it for what it was. It was the sound of rain beating against his window panes. He knelt up in bed and listened for a moment, listened to the hiss and the rattle. Then he scrambled out of bed and hastened to the window, just to be certain. Raindrops were running down the glass. Outside, everything was grey and misty as it hadn’t been for weeks. The courtyard was littered with puddles. There were people out walking in the rain, walking and running in it, celebrating its apparently miraculous return.<p>Not miraculous, no. It was all down to Merlin. Arthur raced back to his bed and near-jumped in, bouncing slightly on the mattress, in his haste to wake Merlin. He shook him by the shoulder. “Merlin,” he said urgently. “Merlin, wake up.”</p><p>Merlin stirred and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like <i>five more minutes</i>.</p><p>“Mer<i>lin</i>, wake <i>up</i>,” Arthur said, shaking him still harder. Merlin’s eyes blinked open and he looked up at Arthur. “Merlin, listen. You hear that?” Merlin listened, and a smile spread slowly across his face.</p><p>“It’s raining,” he said, as if that wasn’t already obvious, but Arthur could forgive Merlin more or less anything right now.</p><p>“You did it,” said Arthur. “You <i>did</i> it. I could kiss you. I’m going to kiss you.” He kissed Merlin, on the forehead, on the cheeks, on the lips, and Merlin laughed and pushed him away.</p><p>“<i>We</i> did it,” he said.</p><p>“Please, it was all you,” said Arthur. “Come to the window. You have to see this.”</p><p>Merlin rolled onto his back and shifted. He winced. “I don’t think I can walk,” he said. “I’m not even sure I can sit up.”</p><p>“Are you alright?” said Arthur. He slid a hand down Merlin’s chest, rested it on his stomach. There were bruises on his hips, bruises shaped like hand-prints. He had a nasty feeling they were his own handprints, but he didn’t want to test it.</p><p>“I’m not sure,” said Merlin. “Yeah. I think so. It hurts. It’s not so bad, though.” He shifted again and hissed. “If it didn’t hurt I think it would be kind of nice.”</p><p>“You’re not making any sense.” Arthur slid down beside Merlin with a contented sigh.</p><p>“No, it’s like,” said Merlin. “It’s like I can still feel you. It’s kind of nice.” He looked up at Arthur. “You should probably go take credit for this.”</p><p>“I probably should,” said Arthur, but he didn’t move. He could stand to lie there and stare at Merlin for a while longer. </p><p>“What will you tell them?” said Merlin.</p><p>“The truth, more or less,” said Arthur. “I’ll tell them you did a ritual to bring break the rain, and if anyone presses me for details I’ll say they’re boring and technical.”</p><p>“And what if they ask why I’m not there?” said Merlin.</p><p>Arthur shrugged. “The truth. You’re too exhausted to appear in public just yet. From all the magic.” He flicked Merlin’s nose. “You are going to appear in public, though. When you can walk again, which I imagine will be quite soon.”</p><p>“It’s down to my bones,” Merlin moaned. He rubbed his nose. “Thanks for covering.”</p><p>“Any time,” said Arthur. “But breakfast first. Court afterwards.” He had a message sent to the kitchen, and settled back in bed with Merlin. Damn court. He wanted to lie around in bed with Merlin all day, though a nagging voice in his head said Merlin probably wouldn’t want to if he didn’t have to.</p><p>He’d expected unspeakable awkwardness; instead it felt entirely natural. He ran a hand across Merlin’s chest and Merlin inclined his head, reaching up for a kiss. Kissing Merlin felt like the most natural thing in the world. He thought again of all the time he’d wasted not kissing Merlin. “Are we okay?” said Merlin, toying with his hair.</p><p>“I don’t know,” said Arthur. “Are we?”</p><p>“I hope so,” said Merlin. “I don’t know. I feel like I’ve hardly seen you lately, and then this.”</p><p>“You’ve hardly seen me because you’ve been hiding in that tower of yours,” Arthur retorted.</p><p>“You gave me the tower,” said Merlin. “I like it up there. It’s peaceful. But I kind of missed you. I didn’t think I would.”</p><p>Arthur knew what he meant. All those years spent around each other almost all the time – and then Merlin moved into his tower and Arthur barely saw him. At first he’d relished the peace and quiet, but there were times now he almost wished he would get away with demoting Merlin back to manservant. He said, “Hmm,” and kissed Merlin again.</p><p>“Did you miss me?” said Merlin hopefully, in a pause in the kissing.</p><p>“Well, a bit,” said Arthur. “I didn’t miss your blather.” He stroked Merlin’s hair. God, but he was fond of Merlin. It wasn’t something he let himself think about much, because having that level of fondness for your manservant or your court sorcerer wasn’t very appropriate, but they’d just fucked, so it was alright now, probably.</p><p>“You <i>love</i> my blather,” said Merlin as Arthur tucked himself down beside him.</p><p>“Shut up,” he retorted. Merlin laughed.</p><p>“Seriously, though,” he said, sobering abruptly. “Are we going to be okay?”</p><p>“I don’t see why not,” said Arthur.</p><p>“It’s just,” said Merlin. “It’s just I don’t think things have been so okay lately. I mean – in the grand scheme of things everything’s been good and I think you’re doing a great job of ruling and I the whole being able to work magic without worrying about my head getting chopped off is fantastic, but – other things.” Arthur sighed. He breathed. He so didn’t want to talk about this. He wanted to skip to the ‘so shall we carry on having sex, then?’ part of the conversation. He was quiet for a while, and Merlin kept talking. “It’s just – I know things haven’t been so good between you and Gwen lately.”</p><p>Arthur screwed his eyes shut and rolled over onto his back.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Merlin gabbled. “Should I not have brought it up? We don’t have to talk about this.”</p><p>“No, it’s alright,” said Arthur. “It’s okay. You’re right. Things haven’t been good.” He’d thought things would be so good once they were married, and for a while they were. For the first month or so Guinevere hadn’t even used her new chambers, despite ostensibly living there. But then they’d started to tire of sharing Arthur’s, and they’d slept apart more and more, and now – well, now he had to strain to think of the last time she’d slept in his bed. He’d never slept in hers. Lancelot had. He’d once walked into Lancelot coming out of Gwen’s chambers early in the morning. It had been unspeakably awkward.</p><p>“You’re not angry about Lancelot, are you?” said Merlin. “Because I wouldn’t blame you if you were – it’s just that if you are you should say something.”</p><p>“I’m not angry,” said Arthur. Not angry, though. “I like Lancelot. Guinevere likes Lancelot. She’s happy with him. I’m glad.” It came out somewhat mechanically, but he did mean it, more or less.</p><p>“But you miss her?” said Merlin.</p><p>“Not exactly,” said Arthur. “It’s just.” He rolled over to look at Merlin. “Things are different now.” He took a breath and went on. “I fell in love with a serving girl. She fell in love with a prince. We’re not those people any more, are we? She’s the Queen of Camelot now – and I don’t regret marrying her for a moment, I don’t think I could have chosen a better queen, but – it’s changed her. It’s changed both of us.” He didn’t blame her for taking up with Lancelot. They had more in common than he and Guinevere ever would.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” said Merlin.</p><p>“Don’t be,” said Arthur. “I am happy for them. Truly.” Though he sometimes thought of the scandal that would erupt if it ever became publically known – or officially publically known. He did not want to have to deal with that, not ever. But it wasn’t likely to happen, he reckoned. “I suppose I just thought things would be better, once we were married and it was official and we weren’t – sneaking around, I suppose. But now I wonder if that was what was keeping it interesting.” </p><p>He rested a hand on Merlin’s stomach. It still felt slightly heated. There were faint red marks on his skin, shaped like splashes, and Arthur had been rubbing his thumb over one thoughtfully for a moment before he realised what had made them. Ick, and also ow. He wondered just how heated things had got.</p><p>“But now you’re lonely,” said Merlin.</p><p>“I wouldn’t say lonely,” said Arthur. He was too busy to be lonely. He was endlessly, eternally busy. He didn’t know how Kings found the time to have families. To his relief, there was a knock on the door. “Ah. That will be breakfast.” He stood up and sought out his clothes, which he had shucked in order to get back into bed.</p><p>“Well, it’s just,” said Merlin. “I’m here, y’know? I’m here?” Arthur glanced to look at him while he was lacing his breeches and stilled, hands fumbling. Merlin was looking up at him with such pure adoration in his eyes – but it wasn’t that that stopped Arthur so much as the realisation that he’d seen Merlin look at him like that before, dozens – hundreds – of times. He’d just never thought much of it till now.</p><p>“Right,” he said. He finished tightening his breeches. “Yeah. You are.” Merlin’s face broke into his sunniest smile, and Arthur reckoned they might have finally got to the <i>so shall we keep having sex</i> part of the conversation. </p><p>He slipped on a shirt and went to the door for breakfast. Once he’d convinced the maid that he was, in fact, capable of carrying his own breakfast tray, he carried it to the bed and held it out. Merlin, prone on the bed, gave him a bleak look, as if to say <i>how do you expect me to eat anything like this</i>. Then he sighed and began, laboriously, to pull himself up into a sitting position, hissing intermittently. Arthur winced and set the tray down precariously atop the sheets.</p><p>He stacked as many pillows as he could reach behind Merlin’s shoulder blades and helped him sit up. “Can’t even sit up by yourself,” he said. “Honestly. It’s a wonder Camelot hasn’t fallen.”</p><p>“Piss off,” said Merlin. “This is all your fault. And it doesn’t hurt that much. I’m just stiff.” </p><p>Arthur seated himself, leaning against the headboard. He cast his eye down Merlin’s exposed chest, at the bruises and the faint burns. “What about that?” he said. Merlin had been in the act of levitating the breakfast tray to within arm’s reach. He looked up at Arthur, confused. Arthur nodded at his chest. Merlin looked down. “Oooh!” he said. The tray fell gently to the bed, jostling the cutlery but thankfully not spilling anything.</p><p>Merlin traced his fingers down his own torso, touching the red spatter-marks. “Oh. Okay. I didn’t notice.” He looked up at Arthur. “S’okay. It doesn’t hurt. I didn’t even notice.” He prodded one of the hand-shaped bruises and winced. Then he reached over and lifted Arthur’s hand by the wrist. He pressed Arthur’s hand to his hip and twisted it till it more or less fitted the bruise. It was definitely Arthur’s handprint – Arthur’s handprints, for there were two. “Huh.”</p><p>Arthur snatched his hand away as if Merlin’s skin was still hot. “I’m sorry.” He felt a hot flush of guilt. He hadn’t known the ritual might hurt Merlin like this.</p><p>“No, I can’t even feel it unless I do this.” Merlin prodded the bruise again and hissed in pain. </p><p>“Don’t do that, then,” said Arthur. He knocked Merlin’s hand away. Merlin snorted a laugh. He was admiring his marks, as proud as if they were battle scars. </p><p>Arthur rolled his eyes, though inwardly he thought Merlin had every right to be proud. He set about feeding Merlin his breakfast, spreading soft cheese on bread and putting it into his hands. “My arms work fine, you know. It’s my legs that are buggered.” Merlin chuckled. “Ha, <i>buggered</i>.” Arthur dripped cheese on him. Merlin yelped.</p><p>He lingered over breakfast as long as he could, but it was only so long before he began to hear the usual noises of the day – even carts and traffic outside, despite the heavy rain. With an equally heavy heart, he left Merlin in bed finishing the last of their chicken – and he might never be able to eat chicken again without thinking of Merlin, oops – and began to dress himself properly.</p><p>“You’re to stay in bed,” he said.</p><p>“Right,” said Merlin.</p><p>“I mean it,” said Arthur. “As soon as I’m finished at court, I’m going to speak with Gaius and have him prescribe you bedrest.”</p><p>“You could just prescribe it yourself,” said Merlin brightly. “You know, cut out the middleman.” Arthur scoffed. “It’s alright, I’m not getting out of bed any time soon. My insides feel like pudding.” He shifted about and winced. “Can you have someone fetch me some books to read?”</p><p>“I’ll see what I can do,” said Arthur.</p><p>“There’s some volumes I was reading up in my –”</p><p>“No.” Arthur finished adjusting his jacket and pointed an angry finger at Merlin. “None of your magic books. I am – I am putting you on sabbatical, understood? No more court sorcerer-ing. It’s wearing you out.”</p><p>Merlin pouted. “What if there’s an emergency?”</p><p>“I’ll tell you if there’s an emergency,” said Arthur. “I’ll have some volumes sent from the library.” He toyed with his collar, flattened it, and headed for the door. “Entertain yourself until then.”</p><p>He stepped out into the corridor and took a breath, steeling himself. Awful as the drought had been, if he played his cards right for the next hour or so this might just save his and Merlin’s reputations. And either way, Merlin would be waiting for him when he came back.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>*</p>
</div>Merlin was still slouched in Arthur’s bed that afternoon, deep in some crusty old book that Geoffrey must have thought he’d like – correctly, by the rapt look in Merlin’s eyes. He looked up at Arthur and grinned. “How’d it go?”<p>“Well enough,” said Arthur. He kicked off his boots and perched on the edge of the bed. “Mmm.” He kissed Merlin gently, and Merlin kissed him. “I’m not sure everyone was entirely convinced that they have you to thank for the rain, but few enough that it doesn’t much matter.” And, as he’d hoped, more than a few were finally won over. Most of Merlin’s more impressive magic since he’d taken his position had been worked outside the city walls; the most much of the court had seen was party tricks, which they sniffed at. “What are you reading?”</p><p>“History of Mercia,” said Merlin. “Did you know that King Horatius II used to –”</p><p>Arthur kissed him again. Another reason why he should have started kissing Merlin years ago: it made shutting him up <i>so</i> much easier. He slipped his tongue into Merlin’s mouth, and kissed him till he forgot what he was saying.</p><p>“What was I saying?” he said, eyes half-closed.</p><p>“You were saying how marvellous I am,” said Arthur. “Hmm.” Merlin had only a sheet draped over him; Arthur could almost see his body through it. “Are you warm enough?”</p><p>“I was too warm with any more blankets,” said Merlin. “Oh, will you fetch the bottle from the table? I sent Leon for it.”</p><p>Arthur had had Leon fetch some books for Merlin, since there wasn’t anyone whose discretion he trusted more. Evidently Merlin felt the same way. He collected the bottle and tried to read the faded label as he carried it back to the bed.</p><p>Merlin had set his book aside and was pulling down the sheet, hissing slightly as he squirmed. “Careful,” said Arthur, and tugged the sheet down. “What’s this for?” He held up the bottle.</p><p>“The burns,” said Merlin.</p><p>“I thought you said they didn’t hurt?” said Arthur.</p><p>“They hurt when I poke them,” said Merlin. He poked one, by way of demonstration.</p><p>“Stop poking yourself,” said Arthur, batting Merlin’s hand away from his injuries yet again. “Would you like me to do this?” He motioned with the bottle.</p><p>Merlin shrugged and hissed again. “Um. Yeah. I probably shouldn’t move.” Arthur unscrewed the bottle and upended a little of the salve onto his fingers. He rubbed it into the closest red mark – they’d gotten redder since the morning – and though he tried to be gentle he could see Merlin biting his lip. He faltered. “No. It’s fine,” said Merlin. “Keep going.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t have agreed to this if I’d known it was going to injure you,” said Arthur, rubbing the salve in slow circles.</p><p>“Like I knew this was going to happen,” said Merlin. “Besides, I’ve had worse. Alright, that’s enough. Here.” He took Arthur’s wrist and shifted his hand to the next burn. Arthur idly wondered which of his knights had made this one, then realised he could probably work it out, since he knew how they’d been positioned, and quashed the whole line of thought immediately.</p><p>He had spoken to Gwen privately after court had dispersed, to assure her that Merlin was just fine and to tell her, awkwardly, that he thought this might be the start of something. She had smiled, and said she hoped it was.</p><p>“You weren’t serious about <i>sabbatical</i> were you?” said Merlin.</p><p>“Absolutely serious,” said Arthur, with his most serious expression.</p><p>Merlin glowered. “When I have enough energy to do magic again, I am going to – something. I haven’t thought of it yet. But it’s going to be good and it’s going to be aimed squarely at <i>you</i>.”</p><p>Arthur snorted. “I defy you to one-up the donkey ears.”</p><p>“Don’t tempt me,” said Merlin. He lay back against his pillows with a sigh. “You should put some on the bruises, too.” Arthur pulled down the sheet further and looked at the bruises. They were speckled more than mottled, dozens of tiny purple and red spots making up the shape of his hands. He smeared some salve on the last burn and moved to the bruises. He was glad that he hadn’t left any burns on Merlin – and then a thought struck him.</p><p>“You’re not burned – <i>inside</i>, are you?”</p><p>“I don’t <i>think</i> you,” said Merlin. He shifted and winced. Arthur stilled him with a hand flat on his belly. He imagined that he could still feel the heat that had been inside Merlin. He paid careful attention to tending Merlin’s bruises, since his hands had made them after all. Then he capped the bottle, set it down on the mattress, and lay beside Merlin. He lay close enough that he could feel Merlin’s breath on his skin.</p><p>“So this is going to be different,” said Merlin at length.</p><p>“Mmm,” said Arthur.</p><p>“I mean, with us,” said Merlin.</p><p>“I know what you meant,” said Arthur. “I like different. Different is good.” </p><p>“What if someone finds out?” said Merlin. “I mean, someone at court?”</p><p>“Think of it this way,” Arthur said. “It can’t possibly be worse than what would happen if they found out about Lancelot and Guinevere.” Merlin winced, then laughed, weirdly exuberant. “I still can’t get over you being a virgin,” he said once Merlin had calmed down.</p><p>“Mm.” Merlin twisted around to face him, or twisted as much as he could without hurting himself. “Can I tell you something?”</p><p>“Anything,” said Arthur. Well, anything except that select group of things they had agreed to never tell each other.</p><p>“I don’t like girls,” said Merlin. He looked quite mortified as he said it, as if he thought it would bother Arthur, after everything they’d done in the last few days. “I never really have. I think that’s why I never got around to the whole sex thing. It’s just – well, you saw where I grew up. I didn’t know how to talk about it, let alone do it.” He looked at Arthur, his eyes so anxious. “Do you mind?”</p><p>“Please,” said Arthur. “This is Camelot. We’re very forward-thinking.”  He considered Merlin’s little revelation further. “Had you ever even kissed a man, before the other night?”</p><p>“Yeah,” said Merlin. “A couple. Didn’t go any further than that.”</p><p>“What about girls? Ever kiss a girl?”</p><p>“A couple,” said Merlin. He looked at Arthur. “Um. Can I tell you something else?” Arthur motioned for him to go on. “Gwen was my first kiss.”</p><p>Arthur stared at him. Then he sputtered. “What? When was this?”</p><p>“I dunno!” said Merlin. “Years ago! Ages before you and her were a thing.”</p><p>“Oh.” Arthur rolled onto his back and stared at the bed canopy. He didn’t know if he ought to laugh or be appalled. “Oh. I don’t know if I can forgive this.”</p><p>“What happened to <i>we’re forward-thinking?</i>” said Merlin.</p><p>“You kissed my wife!” Arthur said.</p><p>“Well, she wasn’t your wife back then!” said Merlin. That did it. Arthur covered his face in his hands and laughed until he was breathless.</p><p>He rolled back over and draped an arm across Merlin’s sheet-clad chest. “Alright. I shall pretend I didn’t hear that.”</p><p>“Good,” said Merlin. “And I’ll pretend I didn’t see you – ” Arthur covered Merlin’s mouth with his hand. “You don’t even know what I was going to say,” said Merlin, muffled.</p><p>“Frankly, I don’t care,” said Arthur. He took away his hand and covered Merlin’s mouth with his lips instead. </p><p>“Just so you know,” he said a while later. “We <i>are</i> having sex again as soon as you’re up to it. You have a lot of time to make up for.”</p><p>“I didn’t expect anything else,” said Merlin. He settled himself closer to Arthur with a sigh. The sheet had slipped down his body. Arthur reached down to pull it up, and took a moment to fit his hand into the bruise on Merlin’s hip. It felt good.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>